


Of Microwaves and Electric Keyboards

by Souless_Familliar



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Jane is a little shit, evil microwaves, probably, probably slow updates, quinn is a little shit, there isnt enough daria fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souless_Familliar/pseuds/Souless_Familliar
Summary: A microwave explodes and burns the downstairs of the Lane household, temporarily evicting Jane, Trent and Amanda who seek refuge at the Morgendorffer house. Quinn discovers Daria's crush, Trent discovers Daria's music and Jake remains, for the most part, oblivious.03x08 'Lane miserables' never happened.





	1. Pillows and Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to clear a few things up before I get lynched:  
> 1) Daria writes songs, plays the piano (or rather keyboard) and sings as well as her hobbies from the show.  
> 2) Daria doesn't need her glasses but chooses to wear them the majority of the time.  
> and  
> 3) As the only characters that have set eye colours as a part of their character design are Jane and her parents, I will probably be deviating from actual canon, but hey, it's fanfiction.  
> Also, I don't own any of the characters or the songs and all songs will be listed in the notes.

Jane never thought that a microwave could do so much damage, but here she was, moping around the dark roads of Lawndale at one in the morning, all because the microwave had exploded, burning the whole of Casa Lane's downstairs. After the fire had been put out, with a great deal of fuss, the small group of Lanes (being Jane, Trent and Amanda) had stuffed as many of their necessities into bags as they could before they left into the night in search of refuge. Seeing as the majority of their family lived out of state, their best bet was the Morgendorffer house, at least for the time being. "Tell us again how the microwave exploded, Trent," Jane requested, shivering slightly in the cool air.  
"I honestly don't know," was his reply, voice even more shredded than usual due to the stress, "I was heating up some leftover pizza and then boom!" To stress his point, he mimed an explosion with his hands and widened his eyes slightly.  
"The thing has been falling apart for years," Amanda sighed, "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner." Jane hummed in agreement as they walked up the Morgendorffer driveway.  
"Here goes nothing," she mumbled, mostly to herself as she knocked, quite loudly, on the door and hoped that one of the family members were still up.

A few minutes of shivering later, the door swung open to reveal a groggy and miffed looking Helen Morgendorffer. "Do you have any idea what time it- Jane?" she asked, looking at the seventeen-year-old girl who was still clad in her pyjamas, unable to see Amanda or Trent. "What on earth are you doing here?"  
"I know it's late," she started, looking apologetic, "and we're sorry for waking you up, but could we crash here tonight, our house caught fire."  
"Of course," she agreed before adding, "we?" Jane nodded and gestured behind herself.  
"My mom, Amanda, and older brother, Trent," she said, "we don't have anywhere else to go." Helen nodded and let them in, flicking a light switch and illuminating the room as she did so. The three lanes trudged into the house, still shivering and grateful for the warmth. Trent was the last of the three in and closed the door behind them as quietly as he could, knowing the rest of the family were still probably in bed.

"Amanda, right?" Helen asked the blonde woman, as she showed the three of them into the living room to sit down. She nodded and gave a small smile, sitting down between Jane and Trent on the couch facing away from the door.  
"Thanks so much for letting us stay, Mrs Morgendorffer," Amanda thanked as Helen sat down on the other couch.  
"Oh, it's the least I can do," she replied, sympathy in her eyes, "and please, call me Helen."  
"If you insist," Amanda managed, with a chuckle. Helen nodded and cast her eyes to Trent, eyeing his tattoos but smiling none the less.  
"And you must be Trent," she said, looking at him. He gave a charming, lazy smile than Helen was sure would have flustered her in her youth.  
"Yeah," he rasped, "that's me. Thanks again, for not letting us freeze." Amanda gave him a sharp look, but Jane snorted and Helen gave an awkward chuckle.  
"Before I find you a place to sleep, would you like a hot drink to warm up?" Helen offered and the three lanes muttered their thanks.

As Helen got up and headed for the kitchen to make hot chocolate (coffee would be a bad decision at this time) faint footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. "Mom," a familiar monotonous voice sounded, "who was it?" Jane craned her neck to look over the back of the couch to look at the staircase as her friend's pale legs came into view.  
"Hey, Morgendorffer," Jane greeted a smirk on her face as her friend looked at her in shock, messy hair tied into a ponytail and glasses crooked on her face.  
"Jane? What are you doing here?" she asked, fixing her glasses, as she came closer, cheeks pinkening when she saw Trent.  
"Microwave exploded and set the house on fire," Jane said as if it were nothing. Daria sighed, deciding it was best not to ask as she sat on the couch, silently wishing she had come down in more than a large shirt and a pair of shorts.  
"Hey Mrs Lane," she greeted, her voice holding its normal tone before it faded off as she added, "and Trent."  
"Hi Daria," Amanda replied, voice airy, whilst Trent just nodded at her.  
"The Lanes are staying over for the night," Helen called from the kitchen, putting spoonfuls of instant hot chocolate powder into three cups.  
"Where are they going to sleep?" she asked, studiously avoiding Trent's blue eyes, which were fixed on her.  
"We're going to figure that out after they've warmed up a little."

A few minutes later the three guests had their hot chocolates clutched in their hands, sipping at the warm chocolatey goodness as an awkward silence settled over the five of them. A silence that didn't last long as a high-pitched voice scoffed, "Mo-om! What's with all the noise, I have to get up at eight o'clock so I can be ready to go to Sandi's at twelve." Quinn appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hand on hip, looking expectantly at the fraction of the Lane family sitting in the living room.  
"If it takes you that long to get ready in the morning, chances are, you're not as cute as you think you are," Daria drawled, looking over at her sister, who narrowed her eyes at her. Jane scoffed into her drink, while Trent chuckled 'good one Daria'.  
"Jane and her family will be staying the night," Helen replied, ignoring her daughter's bickering.  
"Where are they going to sleep?" Quinn asked, making her way towards the others and sitting beside Daria, eyes focusing on Trent, who either ignored or didn't see the flirtatious smile she sent him.  
"Jane can stay in my room," Daria offered.  
"That only leaves the guest room and Trent shouldn't have to share a room with his mother," Helen objected.  
"I honestly don't mind, Mrs Morgendorffer," he said, "I'm just grateful to have a place to sleep."

Daria furrowed her brows in concentration, absent-mindedly scratching her leg. "How about me and Jane sleep down here- with the TV- Mrs Lane takes the guest room and Trent sleeps in mine," her voice broke towards the end of her sentence and her cheeks flushed, which earned a confused look from both Helen and Quinn, while Jane gave a knowing smile and Trent smirked. Amanda seemed to be daydreaming, tapping her fingers against the side of her cup to a rhythm in her head.  
"Good idea, Daria," Helen agreed, looking over at the Lanes, "sound good?" Amanda snapped out of her trance and nodded.  
"Sounds great," Trent agreed, "Daria's bed is probably a lot comfier than mine."  
"And we get the TV," Jane added.  
"All right then," Helen agreed, standing up, "Daria, go show Amanda and Trent to their rooms and bring down a few blankets and pillows from your room and the airing cupboard, I'll clean up, Quinn go to bed." The two nodded before Quinn rushed off to her room while Daria rolled her eyes and gestured for Amanda and Trent to follow her.

She took them upstairs and showed Amanda where the guest room was, telling her to call if she needed anything as well as giving her directions to the bathroom before she took Trent to her room, face flushed the whole way. She opened the door and let him in. "Here," she mumbled quietly, gesturing to the bed and flicking the light on.  
"Cool room," he complimented, looking around.  
"Thanks," she replied, "the guy who used to live here before had a schizophrenic, shut-in aunt. This is where they kept her." As Trent climbed into her bed, commenting that it was, in fact, more comfortable than his own, she made her way over to the closet. She opened it, revealing her limited selection of clothes, an electric keyboard and, on a shelf above the rack, an assortment of blankets and pillows. She stretched to reach them and yanked them down, barely catching them when they fell on her.  
"Is that a keyboard?" Trent asked, looking up at her with droopy eyes. She made sure the blankets and pillows were secure in her arms as she closed the closet door.  
"Yeah," she answered, bidding him goodnight and hurrying out of the room, turning the light off, before he could ask further questions.

As soon as she was out, she slumped against the door, as gently as she could, and breathed heavily for a few seconds. She knew it was an over-reaction, but the guy- man, even- she'd had a crush on for two years was in her bed, in her room and little Miss Morgendorffer was having trouble coping with that. She pressed a hand to her face, feeling her own flesh which was heated with the heavy blush on her cheeks as she tried to calm down. After a few moments, she'd gathered herself and started to head towards the stairs, only to freeze again as she saw Helen, who'd at some point come upstairs, and Quinn smirking at her, having watched her reaction. "What?" she demanded, glaring at them.  
"You liiiiike him," Quinn teased, although she did so quietly to save her sister embarrassment if Trent could hear them.  
"Shut up," she grumbled, continuing to walk, only this time focusing on her feet and ignoring the two of them. She heard Quinn giggle as she went back inside her room and had made it to the stairs before she heard Helen's voice.  
"Daria?" The girl turned to look at her mother, an expectant, if reluctant, look on her face, "I'm sure Trent is a lovely young man, honey, but-"  
"Can we not have this conversation right now?" Daria pleaded, sending her mom a desperate look. Helen nodded.  
"Okay, sweetie, sleep well," she bid as she turned into her own room, allowing her eldest daughter to scurry down the stairs.

When she reached the living room, she threw a pillow and thick blanket at Jane, placing the ones she was going to use on 'her' couch. "So, you've got Trent in your bed?" the black haired girl asked with a smirk. Daria glared at her.  
"Don't say it like that," she scolded, turning to go and turn the light off.  
"What?" Jane asked with mock innocence dripping from her voice. Daria rolled her eyes. flicking the light off and carefully making her way back.  
"Don't say it so suggestively." She sat on the couch, slipping her glasses off and tucking them under the couch, where they wouldn't get stepped on, before pulling her blanket over her as Jane did the same. They had laid down in a way on their respective couch so that their heads were at meeting ends.  
"Suggesting what, exactly?" Jane asked, the same pseudo innocence present in her tone.  
"That he's there for something other than sleeping," Daria hissed pointedly at the other girl.  
"Well, you do wish that were the case," Jane argued, almost feeling Daria's glare.  
"Should you be talking about your bother like that?" she asked rhetorically, but she still got an answer.  
"You know it's true, chica."  
"Go the hell to sleep, Lane." She didn't need to be told twice.


	2. Notebook

Daria woke up the next day, blinking and confused as to why she was not in her room before the memories of the night before flooded back and she flushed. Trent was in her room. She grunted as she sat up and looked around. She heard her mother and father talking to Quinn, their voices coming from the kitchen, assumingly from around the table. Craning her neck to look at the clock mounted on the wall, she huffed as she focused on the slightly blurry numbers (she didn't technically need her glasses all the time, she only had astigmatism) and noted it was nearly noon. She huffed and leant down to grab her glasses, sliding them on before throwing her pillow at Jane who awoke with a start and a snort, rubbing her eyes and looking up at Daria. "What time is it?" she asked, voice slurred from sleep.   
"Nearly noon," was the simple reply as Daria swung her legs down and stood up. She heard Jane grumbling as she moved towards the kitchen but elected to ignore it as she headed to see what her family was talking about.

"Mom!" Quinn whined, "it's a fashion emergency!"   
"Regardless," Helen sighed, clearly irritated, "seeing as we already have guests, you can't host the Fashion Club meeting."  
"Daria's friends are here!" Quinn whined, crossing her arms and sulking.   
"No," Daria interjected and made her presence known, "my friend and her family are here because their house caught fire." Quinn's eyes widened due to the fact she hadn't actually known why they were there but continued to sulk none the less.   
"Morning Kiddo!" Jake piped up, smiling widely at his eldest daughter.  
"Hey, Dad."  
"Morning all," Jane's voice came from behind Daria as she moved towards them, "I hope I'm not imposing."   
"Not at all," Helen said, "sit down, Jake was about to make pancakes."   
"I can't say no to that," Jane said with a grin, everyone ignoring Jake's confused 'I was?' as she sat down next to the seat Daria usually sat in.   
"Daria," Helen called her attention, "why don't you go and see if Trent is awake?" The evil smirk settled on her lips suggested that the only reason Helen had asked the question was to get a reaction out of her usually stoic daughter. As Jane (the only one who really knew Daria well) expected, Daria's face flushed a brilliant red and her eyes narrowed behind the lenses of her glasses.   
"Sure, whatever," she grumbled, "I'll get dressed while I'm at it." As she walked away, she heard Quinn say 'can we keep Trent?' but decided it wasn't worth the reaction.

As quietly as she could, Daria slinked upstairs, scratching the back of her head and yawning. She passed the guest room and heard Amanda talking to someone. As she heard no replies, she assumed the woman was talking on the phone and decided to leave her to it. She made a stop in the bathroom, seeing as she hadn't yet used it before heading to her own room. Taking a deep breath to ready herself, Daria knocked on the door. When there came no reply, she thought that he was probably still asleep and entered the room.

He was not asleep.

Trent was sprawled out on her bed, shirtless mind you, with his hand shoved under her pillow, looking at her with wide blue eyes. "Uh, sorry if I woke you," she apologised, voice strained as she tried to look anywhere but at his naked torso, "but Mom sent me up to see if you were awake and tell you that Dad's about to make pancakes." He pulled his hand from beneath her pillow and sat up from his half-reclined position.   
"Thanks, Daria," he replied, voice huskier than she was used to due to sleep and making her shiver in a way she hoped wasn't visible, "pancakes sound good." She nodded before humming awkwardly.   
"I'll just grab some clothes and leave you to get up, then," she said, entering the room fully and heading to her closet.  
"Cool," he consented, although he knew it didn't really matter. It was still her room, after all. She quickly opened the door of her closet and grabbed her usual orange tank top and black, pleated skirt, bending down to grab her boots. The whole time she felt his eyes trained on her, his gaze burning holes into her back and making her fight down the urge to squirm. She closed the closet door and headed towards her bedroom door, making a quick stop to grab a pair of socks and a set of underwear (though she tried to keep those concealed from him) before she scurried away into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

She quickly changed her clothes (and in the process managed to put her shirt on backwards so she had to take it off and put it back on), pulling her boots on last before looking in the mirror and grimacing. Her hair was an absolute mess. She sighed and took her glasses off, grabbing the plain black hairbrush that she'd put in there. She pulled the hair tie from her auburn locks, wincing when it snagged on the strands and pulled on her scalp, before pulling the brush through her hair until it was soft and knot-free. Deciding she couldn't be bothered with having her hair flying around her, she pulled her hair into a ponytail that sat high on her head. Unfortunately, her fringe, though it had grown out, was not long enough to be caught in the hair tie and fell defiantly in her face. She rolled her eyes and left it to do what it wanted, not having the patience to deal with it any further. She grabbed her 'pyjamas' and glasses before leaving the bathroom and heading back to her room. She knocked gently before going in and freezing.

Trent was still laying on her bed (wearing a dark green shirt this time) but this time he had his blue eyes trained on a notebook in his hands. Her notebook. Her notebook where she wrote her music and lyrics, some of which were inspired or about him. Shit. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, throwing her old clothes in the laundry basket and slamming her glasses on the desk. He jolted and slammed the notebook shut, eyes blowing wide when he looked at her, a reaction she guessed was prompted by her sudden presence (it wasn't).   
"Daria!" he croaked out, wearing a guilty expression.   
"Well?" she pressed, too annoyed at having her privacy being invaded to care that it was Trent that she was talking to.   
"Uhm," he thought for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he was going through her personal items, but decided on the truth, "I thought it may have been your diary and couldn't help myself, but your lyrics, or poems, or whatever were so interesting."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before she sighed. "Put away and please don't do it again," she requested, annoyed at her inability to stay mad at him, before she started heading to the door.   
"Wait, Daria," he called out in a soft voice. She stopped in the doorway and turned her upper half so she could look at him.   
"Yes."  
"Who are they about?" he asked. Frowning and turning to fully face him, she arched a dark brow in question. "The songs?" he clarified for her and she shrugged with, what she hoped, was nonchalance.  
"Nobody," she answered, "just based on things I've seen on TV and stuff." He looked at her as though he didn't believe her.   
"Real passionate lyrics for things you've just seen on TV," he said, sitting up properly and slinging his long legs over the bed so his bare feet rested on the floor. She flushed a pink colour that travelled down her neck and chest (not that he was looking).  
"I'm imaginative," she managed to get out before she rushed off to the stairs, saying something about seeing him downstairs.

Trent looked after her, watching her disappear from the door frame before letting out a deep breath he had been holding for too long. He ran a long-fingered hand through his bed-hair. Sometimes it took everything out of him trying to remember she was still only seventeen and reading through the lyrics she'd written only made that harder. He'd always known she had an old soul, had probably seen too much of the world before she'd even developed the sarcastic wit he was so fond of, but some of the lyrics resonated a little too well with him, seeming to tell stories of things someone as young she was shouldn't have known about. That being said, Daria was smart, unbelievably so, and it didn't surprise him that she did. When he'd looked up at her, missing a key layer that kept his eyes from roaming her body (being her jacket), glasses off to reveal piercing yet doe-like eyes, lined with thick lashes that twinkled with a clear and vibrant turquoise colour an hair tied up in a messy ponytail that swept her hair up from her pale neck, he could have sworn he felt an artery burst from the strain it took to not make a move. Her body, usually so well hidden and that he'd never seen before, was designed to be petite, with a bust that was average, a waist that was impossibly thin and hips that flared out giving her curves that would have probably been considered 'out of fashion' but he felt drawn to every single slope.

Shaking his head, he snapped out of his daze thinking about the girl whose bed on which he sat. "She's seventeen," he chastised himself, "and Janey's best friend". Sighing dramatically, he stood up and started getting ready to head downstairs and eat.


	3. Sing for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update took so long I kept rewriting it

As Daria headed downstairs she heard chattering coming from the kitchen as the smell of burnt pancakes wafted through the air. "Dammit!" she heard her father cry out, before hearing her mother's voice comforting him and offering to take over. When she reached the kitchen, she saw that Amanda had joined the table and looked particularly distressed.  
"Amanda," Helen said from the stove, voice gentle, "you can stay here as long as you need to."  
"It's still kind of annoying that nobody else that we know is willing to give us a place to sleep," Jane commented, "family included."  
"Trent can go and stay with a friend," Amanda offered, "so Daria can have her bed back."  
"Actually," Jan said, slowly,"Max is out of the country, Nick just moved back in with his parents and Jesse's taken Lily to Disney world."   
"And I don't mind him being in there," Daria added after a second, making Quinn, who was facing away from her, jump in surprise.  
"Are you sure?" Amanda asked and Daria shrugged, going to sit beside Jane in her usual seat.   
"Yeah, I'm sure," she replied, shovelling a few pancakes from the plate in the middle of the table onto the plate set in front of her. She noticed that Quinn had only eaten half a pancake, which made her raise her brow, but she decided to pay it no mind as she poured maple syrup over her mini-stack. 

"That smells good," a voice came from the entrance of the kitchen. Everyone turned to see Trent walking in, "but it doesn't look like there's enough space at the table."  
"Sit here," Jane said, standing, "I want to go and get dressed anyway." Daria narrowed her eyes at the black haired girl, who was concealing a smirk with a wide smile.   
"Thanks, Janey," was Trent's simple reply as they traded places and Trent sat down beside Daria who was trying her best to not start blushing. She noticed that he'd slid his rings on and put his necklace on, things she didn't think he was wearing the night before or when she went up to get him. He began to pile pancakes onto the plate Jane had used before him.   
"Hey, Daria," Quinn started, with a cat-like grin,"what was with all the blushing and stuttering last night?" Daria shot her an unamused look, feeling her face flush yet again when she heard both Amanda and Trent chuckle. Daria gave her an icy glare and narrowed her eyes, but decided to save her revenge for another day.   
"Quinn," Helen warned, coming over with a fresh stack of pancakes, before the phone rang and, of course, she rushed to answer it. "Hello..." 

Daria stood up and walked away from the table, grumbling her thanks as she put her empty plate and her cutlery in the sink, before slinking off upstairs. She headed straight for her bedroom once she reached the top of the staircase, opening the door to find Jane watching the TV on the trolley in her room. "Hey Amiga," the black haired girl greeted, grinning widely. Daria grunted as she threw herself onto the floor beside Jane. "Oh god, what happened?" Jane asked with a sigh, shifting so she could look at her friend better. Daria sat up straight and dramatically flipped her hair.  
"Hey Daria," she said in a high-pitched voice that resembled Quinn's almost perfectly, "what was with all the blushing and stuttering last night?" She then pulled a face and rolled her eyes.   
"That actually sounded like Quinn," Jane commented, a look of horror running over her features, "please never do that again." Daria sighed again and laid down, curling into the fetal position on her floor as she looked at the tv out of the corner of her eye.   
"I hate everything," she mumbled, as Jane started to pat her on the shoulder.

They stayed like that for a few minutes as Sick Sad World played, casting a faint green glow over their pale skin, which flickered and flashed as the video played. There was a faint knock on the door and Daria called out for whoever it was to come in. Turquoise eyes scrolled across her room to focus on the door as it opened, revealing Trent with his hand on the handle. His eyes widened and his face flushed as his eyes seemed to concentrate her before he quickly looked away. She raised an eyebrow before looking down and realising that, from where he was standing, he could probably see straight up her skirt. Knocking Jane's hand off of her shoulder in her haste, she sat bolt upright and pulled the hem down and flushed a brilliant red. "Hey Trent," she mumbled, fixing her eyes back on the TV.   
"Your sister's still trying to persuade your Mum to let the- uh- 'Fashion Club" - or whatever- stay over," he explained, "can I hang out in here?" Daria shrugged.  
"Sure," she agreed and shuffled closer to Jane so Trent could sit on the bed with his legs next to her. He leant back until his back touched the wall and he slumped into a more comfortable position.   
"What the hell is The Fashion Club, anyway?" he asked. Jane turned around to look at him.  
"You know Quinn?" she asked and he nodded. "Now imagine four of her." A look of horror crossed his face and Jane laughed, turning back around to look at the TV.  
"That's not technically true," Daria commented, "Sandi is the textbook definition of shallow, Tiffany is two-faced and Stacey is so reliant on the others she nearly has a panic attack whenever they're separated; at least Quinn has a brain and a personality behind the mask of superficiality she wears so she can better fit in with the rest of them."  
"Why the hell would she want to do that?" Trent asked, looking down at Daria who kept her eyes on the TV.  
"I keep asking her the exact same question," she sighed, "she thinks she'll become a social recluse instead of a cool, popular girl on the top of the social ladder if she develops her own personality."  
"From what I hear you're a social recluse and you're one of the coolest girls I know," he commented, still not understanding but decided to shrug it off.   
"Well," Daria mumbled, blushing a brilliant red at his -compliment?-, "thanks..." Jane just smirked in her usual knowing way. 

The three of them sat in near silence for the next half hour (or a whole episode of Sck Sad World), occasionally commenting on the content on the screen, until another knock on the door was heard. "Yeah?" Daria called out and, yet again, the door opened. The auburn haired girl raised a brow as the door flung open, revealing a particularly irritated Helen.  
"Quinn's friends will be staying over tonight," she sighed, "just thought I'd warn you."  
"At least you can escape," Jane grunted, looking at Trent with an envious glare.   
"How come?" Daria asked, looking at the black haired girl.  
"He has work tonight," she shrugged.   
"Oh, do you?" Helen asked, eyes widening at the young man.  
"You sound shocked," Daria mumbled, but Helen ignored her as she continued to look expectantly at Trent.  
"Yeah," he chuckled awkwardly, "I'm a bartender at a new club that opened in town."  
"Oh," Helen replied, "you'll probably be home quite late then, I'll fetch the spare key for you." With that, the woman left. Trent blinked at the empty doorway, trying to compute what had just happened. Daria chuckled before looking back at the TV. 

"I have to go to the bathroom," Jane said abruptly, standing and hurrying out of the open door, leaving Daria and Trent alone. There was a beat of silence.   
"So," Trent started, looking at the younger girl, "any chance of letting me hear you play?" Daria spluttered at his boldness but quickly regained composure.   
"Play what?" she asked, looking up at him. He gave her a deadpan look.   
"You're too smart to play dumb, Daria," he told her and she sighed.   
"Never, if I can help it," she replied, not being able to help the happiness that blossomed within her as his face fell in disappointment.   
"So, I take it you won't sing for me," he said, voice dropping. For some reason, his words coupled with the low register of his voice made her spine tingle and cheeks flush.   
"N-no," she managed, "I don't sing."  
"Yet your notebook is full of songs," he retorted with a smirk.  
"Okay," she said, crossing her arms, "I don't sing in front of people." Trent just grinned.   
"I'll get you to sing for me, one day," he said, a promise in his voice, however, all Daria could hear was 'I know you can't say no to me'. She pouted without realising and Trent felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't believe in any God, yet he still felt he was being tested as he looked down at her, looking back up at him with doe-like, bright eyes, a gentle flush across her cheeks and down her neck. Even Daria, in all of her inexperience, noted how his gaze darkened as he looked at her. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched as she quickly looked away from him and focused on the television screen. Trent also decided it would be best if he followed suit. 

When Jane walked in she couldn't help but notice the way Daria's face didn't return to its usual pale colour or the way Trent kept looking down at her with keen eyes but decided to not question it.


	4. Eyes

A few hours had passed and it was now approaching eight-thirty. Trent had since left for work, with the spare key Helen had given him, Jake had been called into work for some emergency (something that greatly annoyed Helen, seeing as it was the Easter vacation) and Amanda had gone back to Casa Lane to grab a few of the things that the Lane Trio had left behind in their haste and to see how long it would take for them to be able to move back in.

Daria and Jane were still in Daria's bedroom, avoiding leaving as much as they could as the Fashion Club had already begun to invade the house (meaning Sandi had arrived and the other two would be joining them any minute now), but they were now watching a movie rather than their favourite show.

 _'Raina,' a voice called out, belonging to a dark-haired boy chasing a blonde girl in a pink prom dress out of a school hall._  
 _'Don't talk to me, Dylan!' the girl, who had an annoyingly high-pitched voice_ _shrieked back at him, dramatically spinning on her kitten heel to glare at him._  
 _'I'm sorry, okay?' he told her, moving closer to her with his hands outstretched._  
 _'Go and get your winnings, Jerk!" she yelled, taking off the_ corsage _she'd been given by him earlier in the movie and throwing it at him._  
 _'Raina!' he called after her again as she ran off. He sunk down to his knees and keeled over, clutching the corsage to his chest, even though he could have easily caught up_ _with her._   
"What the fuck is happening?" Daria asked, staring at the screen with a confused expression.  
"Ricky bet Dylan twenty dollars that he couldn't make Raina prom queen, she was just made prom queen and found out that the blossoming romance between them was caused by the bet because Abbie had it on camera and played it in the background as Raina was crowned," Jane explained, "a ridiculous concept, I know." Daria scoffed.   
"I'll say."

Before either of them had the opportunity to ridicule the movie any further, there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Daria called out and soon enough, Helen was in the room with them.  
"You two are spending an awful lot of time in here," she said (A/N: haha, that's cute), looking between the two of them with a raised eyebrow.   
"Beats being out there with Quinn and the mindless drones," Daria drawled.   
"What makes you think I want to be out there alone with them?" Helen asked, putting her hands on her hips. Jane chuckled softly and Daria gave her classic Mona Lisa smile.  
"You let them stay," Daria pointed out and Helen rolled her eyes.  
"Quinn's so persistent," she groaned, "can you two at least come downstairs until Amanda comes home?" The two girls looked at each other, but with heavy sighs decided to not torture the poor woman.  
"All right we'll be down in a few minutes," Daria agreed and Helen thanked them before swooping out of the room, closing the door behind her.

They'd barely stood up, Jane moving to switch the TV off, when the door was slammed open and a grating voice called, "Daria?!" The auburn haired girl turned with a frown on her face, unsurprised when her eyes landed on Quinn, who was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.  
"Ever heard of knocking?" Daria spat, glaring at her sister who completely ignored the question.  
"Where's Trent?" she asked and both Jane and Daria raised a brow at the question.   
"At work," Jane answered, brow still arched, "he'll be back around midnight."  
"That late?" Daria asked, looking back at Jane, who shrugged.  
"The night shift get's more pay." Daria nodded before looking back at Quinn.  
"Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.   
"Because The Fashion Club is holding a debate as to what makes the hottest guy," Quinn began to explain, "and Sandi says we all need to bring evidence of our point to the next meeting. If even you are attracted to Trent, he must be pretty damn special so my theory is that-"  
"Please don't tell me," Daria said through clenched teeth in a testy voice, "I don't wanna lose brain cells." Even with how irritated she sounded, she still flushed when Quinn bluntly called out her attraction towards him.   
"Whatever," Quinn snapped, "call me if he comes back early..." And with that, she left.

There was a prolonged period of silence in the room where Daria and Jane tried to register what had just happened. "Okay then..." Jane muttered as she completed her task of turning off the TV and Daria let our a soft laugh.  
"It's best to just not question her," she sighed and Jane hummed in agreement before the two of them moved towards the door.   
"She even called you out on your attraction," Jane pointed out with laughter in her voice.  
"And I could kill her for that," Daria said, simply, as they left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Hey," Jane called, gaining the other girl's attention, "you haven't worn your glasses all day." Daria shrugged.  
"I didn't really notice," she mused, before narrowing her eyes at Jane who cackled somewhat evilly.  
"Trent did."  
"Shut the hell up..." Daria muttered irritably.  
"I thought you couldn't see without them," Jane told her, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts as they walked.  
"No," was Daria's simple reply, "I just have astigmatism." Jane arched a brow.  
"In English?" she asked, grinning when Daria shot her a sharp look.  
"It means the shape of my eyeball doesn't focus light properly, so things are a little blurry, but I can still see," Daria explained, "I only really have to wear them when I'm reading, writing or looking at a screen, but considering that's what I do most of the time, I just leave them on. It's more practical than taking them off and putting them back on again."  
"Makes sense," Jane nodded, "you should leave them off more often; you have really pretty eyes."  
"Thanks," Daria mumbled awkwardly.  
"At least Trent seems to think so."  
"Lane, I can and will punch you in the throat."  
"Shutting up."


	5. Skin

The two girls walked down the stairs in a comfortable silence that often settled over the two of them whenever they were alone before they joined Helen on the couch. There was a generic Drama the woman seemed to enjoy playing on the TV, Daria thought it was called 'Cherrybirch avenue' or something similar until Helen saw the two of them sitting down on the couch adjacent to the one she was sitting on. "Oh god," Daria groaned, "not this crap..."

"Do you want to put a DVD on?" Helen asked, having not actually heard what Daria had said, but already knowing her eldest daughter couldn't stand the show. Daria looked at Jane who shrugged, so Daria agreed and stood up to move towards the cupboards that were built into the elaborate cabinet that surrounded the TV. After ten minutes of hunting through the (seemingly) hundreds of DVD in the cupboards, posing her suggestions only to have then turned down by either Jane or Helen. "Okay," Daria huffed, beginning to lose her patience, "Nightmare on Elm Street?" Jane nodded her consent and Helen pondered for a minute.

"I suppose if Quinn and her friends know there's a horror movie on, they'll try to come down here as little as possible."

"Wow," Daria replied, a subtle hint of surprise worming into her voice, "you're openly expressing your dislike for Quinn's friends." Helen gave her withering look as she put the DVD into the tray of the DVD player situate under the TV before she sighed.

"I try to support the both of you in everything she does," the woman said, "but I can't help but feel her interests are banal."

"That and they probably won't help her when she leaves school," Daria added, to which Helen nodded. Jane just sat there, listening to the conversation but not feeling that it was her place to add to it.

"And as for her friends," Helen continued, as Daria pressed 'play' and went to join Jane, "I hope either they grow up soon, or Quinn grows up enough to leave them behind." That was the end of the discussion as the three sat and watched the movie begin to play out.

After some silence, the movie had played out to the point where Tina was attached to the ceiling by some mystical force, being shredded open by something that wasn't there as her boyfriend watched on in horror. "I've always wondered how they did that," Jane mused out loud.

"Oh," Helen sighed distantly, "I remember when this movie first came out. Jake and I went to see it in the theatre." There was a beat of silence. "He spent the next week convince that Freddy Krueger was out to get him," she added dryly, making both the girls laugh.

"Sounds like Dad," Daria said, nodding along with Jane.

"The effects still amaze me to this day," Helen mused, going back to Jane's point.

"Do you think they used stop-motion animation?" Jane asked the woman who hummed in thought.

"It seems too clean to be stop-motion," she pondered. This soon lead to a nearly ten-minute-long discussion about the making of the movie playing out on the screen.

Just as their conversation came to a close, several sets of footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, along with the loud chatter of The Fashion Club. "I mean," Quinn's voice sounded, getting louder as they moved closer, "sure, Joey has a car now, but Jamie just got a job so he has more money."

"What about Jeffy?" Stacey's voice piped up.

"Jeffy hasn't been on a date since February," Sandi's trademark, irritating voice drawled.

"And?" Tiffany's slow monotone asked.

"Oh my god, Tiffany, if he hasn't been on a date since February, he probably has forgotten how to treat girls with as much popularity as us on a d-OH MY GOD!" Sandi's voice was cut off by her own yell of horror as she stared, wide-eyed at the screen as Tina was being shredded (Helen, Jane and Daria had elected to rewind and analyse the movie a few times). Tiffany and Stacey soon followed suit, as expected of them, but Quinn just stared in content at the screen, until Tiffany and Sandi looked at her expectantly and she let out an overly exaggerated proclamation of horror. Daria raised an eyebrow as she noticed this, but Jane and Helen just looked irritated, though Helen did a better job of hiding it.

"Stacey, you get the drinks," Sandi instructed, pulling Tiffany and Quinn up the stairs as Stacey remained frozen, staring at the screen, clearly terrified. Daria glared up at Sandi as she disappeared from her line of sight as the three girls headed upstairs before she sighed heavily. She stood up and moved towards the quivering girl, gently taking her arm and pulling her towards the kitchen. She vaguely heard Helen mutter, 'oh, I can't stand that girl', clearly about Sandi, and she couldn't agree more.

Once Daria and Stacey were in the kitchen, Daria placed her hands on to Stacey's shoulders, who'd since started breathing heavily, tears piling into her eyes. "Stacey," Daria said, as calmly as she could as she looked up at the slightly taller girl, "it's not real, it's a movie, it's makeup and computers." Stacey made an effort to even out her breathing and repeated what Daria had said. After a few rounds of doing this, Stacey had calmed down enough to wipe the tears from her eyes and thank Daria. Stacey collected four cans of diet cola before hurrying off upstairs, pointedly not looking up at the screen. Daria swiftly joined her mother and friend in front of the TV.

"And Daria's small heart grew three sizes that day," Jane said, giving her friend a cheeky grin.

"Shut up," Daria instructed, using her shoulder to knock Jane, who just laughed. Helen smiled at the two, happy the Daria had a friend like Jane.

As the movie begun to come to its conclusion, the sound of a key being inserted into the door lock was heard, and all three of those gathered at the TV turned to see who it was, expecting it to be Jake. Needless to say, they were surprised, when Amanda walked in, holding a bag, followed by Trent, holding two. "Trent, what happened to your face?" Helen asked the man who had a bruised cheek and a busted lip.

"And why are you back so early?" Jane asked, suspecting that he'd been fired already.

"There was a bar fight," Trent explained as he put the bags down and gently pushed away Amanda's worried hands, "I tried to break it up but got beat up myself," he laughed before coughing, "so the boss sent me home."

"I'll get the first aid kit," Helen said, standing up but Trent shrugged it off.

"I'm honestly fine," Trent said," I think he was going to close early anyway." Helen gave him a sceptical look but sighed, deciding to leave it alone. After a few minutes of pestering, Amanda followed suit, hauling the bags out of the way and sitting beside Helen as Jane, Trent and Daria all headed upstairs.

Once they were in Daria's room, they all assumed the arrangement they had been in earlier, with Jane and Daria on the floor and Trent on the bed. "We should have bought up some DVDs," Daria sighed.

"I'll go grab some horror movies," Jane offered, jumping up, "hopefully Mum bought some of mine."

"She did," Trent confirmed and Jane hurried out of the door, saying something about a movie called 'Twelve Days Dying'.

"What's 'Twelve Days Dying'?" Trent asked, looking down at Daria. She turned to look up at him.

"It's a movie about a sadistic billionaire who drugs and locks a psychologist, a gymnast, a writer and a mechanic in a hundred-story story tall skyscraper he built in the middle of nowhere. There are several bombs set up all the way through the building, all rigged to go off twelve days after they all wake up. They start on the top floor and have to sneak through traps and solve twisted puzzles, a few on each floor, to get to the bottom story and escape and they have twelve days to do it," she explained to him and he nodded, not seeming to have any problem with watching it. (A/N: just in case you thought it was real, I just made that plot up it's not a real movie.)

There was a brief period of silence, where Daria fiddled with the hem of her skirt and Trent watched her do it."Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asked her after a minute and she shrugged. "You should sit on the bed before your ass get's sore," he told her, not that he was thinking about her ass. She clumsily stood before she gingerly sat on the bed, edging her way back until she was leaning against the wall, studiously avoiding his gaze. She sat there for a few seconds before she looked down and realised that her leg was very nearly touching his and began to shift away from him, but he placed his hand on her bare thigh to stop her. Daria stopped breathing. Then, almost absent-mindedly, he grazed the pad of his thumb over the soft skin of her thigh, tracing a horseshoe shape with a gentle touch and she noticed that the skin of his hand was calloused and surprisingly warm. She couldn't help the way her back arched slightly at the foreign sensation, or the dainty gasp that left her slightly parted lips. He stared at her with wide eyes, hand still on her thigh, and she turned to look at him wearing a sinfully innocent expression and a rosy blush. She could have very easily imagined it, but she could have sworn that he began to lean ever so slightly towards her until-

"Well," Jane said as she flung the door open, clutching a wad of DVD cases in her long-fingered hand, "Mum didn't bring Twelve Days Dying but- Woah, am I interrupting something?" Daria nearly leapt out of her skin and Trent snatched his hand away from her leg as they both stared at her.

"No," Daria breathed out in an airy voice that was highly unlike her. Trent just shook his head as Jane gave them both a sceptical look.

"Okay," she said in a thoroughly unconvinced voice, "anyway, Mum bought..." Daria's brain was so frazzled that she couldn't pay any attention to what her friend was saying and just nodded absently along with what the other was saying, telling her to put whatever movie she wanted on. Jane did so and moved to sit next to Daria on her bed, though not nearly as close as she and Trent were sitting. So, the movie began to play.

The movie played (a slasher from the previous decade) out and all was well until, "hey Daria, do your parents know you can play the piano?" Daria stared at Trent with wide eyes and Jane spluttered beside her.

"You what?" Jane asked, looking at the other girl with a surprised blue stare.

"Trent!" Daria yelled, shoving the man with her shoulder.

"You didn't tell her?!" he asked in shock, eyes just as wide as the girls'.

"NO!" they chorused and he flinched back at the sudden volume.

"Not even that you write your own lyrics to go with your music?" he asked and she glared at him, Jane throwing her hands up in the air in utter disbelief.

"Trent!" Daria hissed at him, "if she didn't know I could play, why would she know I wrote accompanying lyrics?"

"I didn't know you wouldn't tell her something like that," he defended.

"Why  _didn't_  you tell me?" Jane asked, a dark brow raised in question. Daria sighed.

"I didn't want _anyone_  to know," she told Jane, "Trent just found my notebook..."

"Well, I'm utterly offended," Jane said, without sounding offended at all, "the only way I will ever forgive you is if you play me one of your songs and sing along." Jane grinned. Daria glared. Trent nodded in agreement.

Daria sighed heavily and stood up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys think it's too early to have Daria sing for Jane and Trent???


	6. Carmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back  
> back  
> back  
> back again  
> gain   
> gain  
> *greasy smile*  
> I'm the literal worst

Daria started moving towards the closet, where her keyboard resided, dainty and slender hands reaching towards the handle, pulling it open to reveal the keyboard, which Jane figured had seen a lot of use as the ivory keys had faded into a slightly dull colour. "How long have you had that thing?" Jane asked with a quirk of a thick brow.

"Since I was twelve," Daria responded as she started to pull the large object out, without dropping it.

"You've been hiding that from your folks for five years?" Trent asked, equal parts shocked and impressed.

"Yeah." Daria propped the keyboard up against the wall so she could get the stand out from the back as she continued, "I bought it while my parents were out and snuck it into my room; I used to have a bed with enough space underneath them to easily fit the keyboard and stand. It had sliding doors on the sides so you couldn't see it and I piled a load of laundry on top so nobody would find it, even if they opened the doors." By the time Daria had finished explaining, she'd set up and plugged in the keyboard and was sat behind it.

"How did you manage to smuggle it in when you moved houses?" Jane asked, shifting on the bed to sit more comfortably.

"Mum was busy and Dad is generally oblivious, it wasn't that hard." Daria shuffled around in the computer seat to get comfortable. "Uhh, any requests?" she asked, looking at Trent, who hummed in thought. After a few seconds, he looked at her and said,

"Carmen." Daria gave a heavy sigh as she began to play a tune.

It was a slow, steady tune that carried itself around the room, proudly as Daria began to sing with a smooth, velvety voice;

Darling, darling, doesn't have a problem

Lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top shelf

It's alarming honestly how charming she can be

Fooling everyone, telling how she's having fun

Jane's eyes widened in disbelief, unaware her good friend had kept this gift from her for so long. Daria's voice still came out in a drawl, as it did when she spoke, but unlike the way she spoke, she didn't sound bored. She sounded sensual, with the notes of her words running off of her tongue like molten chocolate, warm and smooth.

She says you don't want to be like me

Don't wanna see all the things I've seen

I'm dying, I'm dying

She says you don't want to get this way

Famous, and dumb, at an early age,

I'm dying, I'm dying

The boys, the girls, they all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like God, her mind's like a diamond

audio tone lies, she's still shining

Like lightning, light, like lightning

Carmen, Carmen, staying up 'til morning

Only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean

It's alarming truly how disarming you can be

Eating soft ice cream, Coney Island queen

She says you don't want to be like me

Looking for fun, get me high for free

I'm dying, I'm dying

She says you don't want to get this way

Street walking at night, and a star by day

It's tiring, tiring

The boys, the girls, they all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like God, her mind's like a diamond

audio tone lies, she's still shining

Like lightning, light, like lightning

Daria's voice switched from the sensual drawl to something lighter and raspier as she continued with the next few lines. Trent felt his heart thump in his chest.

Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go

That's the little story of the girl you know

Relying on the kindness of strangers

Tying cherry knots while doing party favours

Put your red dress on, put your lipstick on

Sing your song, song, now, the camera's on

And you're alive again

The boys, the girls, they all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like god, her mind's like a diamond

audio tone lies, she's still shining

Like lightning, light, like lightning

Like lightning, light, like lightning

Darling, darling, doesn't have a problem

Lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top shelf

Her slender fingers continued to dance over the keyboard for a few more seconds before they came to a gentle stop. There were a few moments of silence before she awkwardly looked up at the two of them. "I'm not exactly used to showing people, so sorry if it was bad or something-" she started but was swiftly cut off by the protests of her two-person audience.

"You got quite the set of pipes there, Morgendorffer," Jane complimented with a grin.

"I'll say," Trent agreed, "your voice is amazing." He offered her a genuine smile and she flushed a brilliant red.

"You probably should have recorded it because you won't be hearing it again," she told them as she rose from her seat and began to pack her keyboard away.

"What?" Jane practically whined (although if you asked her she would deny it) at her friend, "you've denied me all this time!"

"And I will continue to do so," Daria said as she pushed the keyboard back into the closet, making sure it was stable before she put the stand in again, hurriedly closing the door lest one of her family members chose to barge in unannounced and uninvited.

"Oh, woe is me," Jane declared, being the more dramatic of the duo, while Trent just chuckled.

"I'm not a performer," Daria reasoned as she moved to sit between the two of them.

"Shame," Trent said, blue eyes turning to her with a warm, fond look, "with a voice like that, you could be a real star." The turquoise-eyed girl flushed, yet again, under the older man's attention.

A few hours later, Jane and Daria were in their sleep-wear, under thin blankets in the living room, watching an interview with two Texan doomsday preppers. "So, what did you and Trent get up to when I was gone?" Jane asked, looking at Daria out of the corner of her eye. Daria didn't even meet her gaze as she ignored her question.

"You have to admit, the amount of work that goes into some of these fortresses is pretty impressive."

"Don't ignore the question, young lady, that will only serve to make me more suspicious," Jane warned her with a teasing yet pointed look. Daria sighed quietly and closed her eyes.

"Nothing happened," she told the dark-haired girl, "we didn't get up to anything." Jane raised a brow, clearly not believing her. "Nothing happened!"

"Awfully defensive, aren't we?"

"Lane, I swear..."

"I'm kidding!" Jane chuckled, "although I did notice him snatching his hand away from your leg when I walked in."

"I hate you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I know it's been a while since I updated and I know this is a really underwhelming update, but I'm going to try to update more frequently from now on


End file.
